Scarlet and Ebony
by Velveteenbunny
Summary: Severus Snape is tormented by the thought of the annual Halloween ball, confronted with obscure costumes and unwelcome customs, he hides in a corner until a flash of scarlet changes his mind.
1. Chapter 1

**Scarlet and Ebony**

The October weather had at last taken a turn towards winter, the Whomping Willow had shed all its leaves and scarves had become a necessity, not just for the tree. Severus Snape trudged across the castle grounds which were littered with rotting leaves, his face the epitome of discontent as his Slytherin scarf was whipped behind him by the harsh draught. He passed by Hagrid who was occupied arranging a collection of freshly carved, ornate pumpkins of all shapes and sizes around the grounds.

"Someone gonna have to do something about all these leaves I feels, professor!" Hagrid remarked cheerily, but Snape continued to walk by him without a word. Unaffected by this sleight, Hagrid continued with his work merrily, casting glances around for his magical rake. As Snape entered the castle, he was surprised at how quiet everywhere was, what was normally filled with the bustling of idiotic students, now only held the faint murmur of one or two here and there. Not that this was a problem to him as he enjoyed solitude and the less students featured in his working day, the better. Odd for a man who had taken up the teaching profession, a thought which regularly crossed Snape's own mind.

Snape viewed Dumbledore's approach in his peripheral vision, however trying to avoid the Headmaster; Snape began to walk faster in feigned ignorance of his presence.

"Severus!" Dumbledore called, his voice echoing around the high corridors. "Severus!"

On the second call of his name, Snape knew he would have to answer him. Stopping reluctantly, he turned on his heel with a sigh to face the esteemed Headmaster.

"Yes, Albus?"

"It's all very quiet here isn't it? you should have seen this corridor an hour past. Halloween excitement Severus! Off they went to Hogsmeade to get themselves costumes. It leaves Hogwarts with quite a solitary feel, don't you think?"

"Pleasantly so."

Dumbledore seemed to not hear this last remark as he continued to bumble on cheerily, whilst shuffling his feet back and forwards almost excitedly.

"Are you coming to the Halloween Ball tomorrow Severus?"

"Yes." Snape said with slow, reluctant sullenness, like a child who was adhering to a will not their own.

"Good, good! It will be a lively affair, don't you think?"

"Yes." Snape repeated, his tone unchanged.

Dumbledore seemed to be awaiting further remarks from Severus, but the Potions Master could not think of any enthusiastic sentiment to express, instead he asked a question which he regretted the immediately.

"Have you a costume, Albus?"

"Yes, I have!" Dumbledore replied. "I am going as a wizard."

"A wizard?" Snape asked almost incredulously.

"Yes!"

"But… forgive me; you are a wizard, Albus."

"Oh come, come Severus!" Dumbledore chuckled, slapping Snape's back a little more enthusiastically than the Potion's Master appreciated. "I was thinking of a more Arthurian legend sort of a wizard."

"Do you mean… Merlin, sir?"

"Exactly." Dumbledore continued, his voice having a thoughtful tinge to it. "I've been knitting it myself in my spare hours. That magazine subscription is proving its worth with every new edition."

"I am sure you will look very… regal, Albus."

Another silence fell between them as Snape's ability to match Dumbledore's eagerness for the impending event evaporated. However, he knew his moments were limited having made the mistake of enquiring about Dumbledore's outfit choice.

"And you?"

"And me?" Snape feigned ignorance again, his insides twisting a little with embarrassment at the prospect.

"What costume will you be wearing? I remember distinctly Professor Flitwick making a charming homemade Hobbit ensemble last year. You were travelling then so you wouldn't have seen it, in fact I believe this is the first year you've been able to attend the Halloween ball, Severus."

"Well, you were rather insistent this year, sir." Snape's insides now shrivelled to nothing.

"The Halloween ball is an incredibly important event for student's morale! It banishes the darkness we knew for so long and celebrates in its own way the losses and successes we have endured in those times. What better way to banish them Severus than with revelry, costumes and candlelight?"

"Personal reflection and attention to prospective future mistakes?" Snape suggested honestly, his understanding of how people dressed in ridiculous garbs helped banish the past being barely existent, let alone appreciated. The thought of indulging in it was more than he could bear.

"I seem to remember Minerva making a particularly fetching rabbit in a previous time too, that woman has quite the playful face for bunny features."

"Yes…" Snape said, slightly disturbed.

"Anyway, so what are you wearing?"

"I… I… I haven't decided quite yet."

"Come, come Severus! Costumes are flying out of the shops; you don't want to be left wearing a witch's hat and a bin bag! That's the one outfit that would render you invisible."

"If only."

"I know how you like to jest, Severus. I shall leave you to your errands; I am going to begin work on curling my beard. This may take some time."

Without another word, Dumbledore skipped away in merriment for the forthcoming revelry, complimenting a suit of armour on its excellent choice of Halloween bowtie and other accessories. Snape felt physically sick at the prospect of Halloween merriment and the smell of steak and kidney pudding wafting from the Great Hall didn't help. He was fond of Dumbledore, they were old friends, but even an old friend could not prevail upon him to dress in a manner that should have ended at childhood.

It took Snape another hour before he was even close to the door of his own chambers, students had begun returning, armed with bags of kitsch rubbish. Some of this he felt the need to confiscate and eviscerate as his disdain increased. It seemed every person on the Hogwart's payroll whom he encountered felt the need to unburden themselves about their Halloween excitement and enquire about the depths of his own. Had they never understood that on this subject, this well ran dry!

As his door was in sight, Snape felt a huge surge of relief, the prospect of quiet felt marvellous to him. He would sit by his fire and read one of his books until his inner equilibrium rebalanced itself. His hand touched the doorknob when a voice behind him said lightly.

"Good day Professor."

He knew that voice well enough and feeling the need to answer it, he turned.

"Good day Miss Granger."

Hermione stood there arms clasped around another tome, no Halloween garbage in sight; at least there was one other sane seeming person under this extensive roof.

"I am surprised to see you this late in the week, Severus." She said with a slight smile, "I thought you would be travelling."

"Not this year."

When normally a period of awkward silence would fall here, that was the standard response to his brevity, Hermione took a step nearer.

"It's nice to see you; your absence has been noticed in recent years."

"Hence Dumbledore's insistence at my presence this year."

"I wasn't meaning by the Headmaster, but yes…" Hermione blushed slightly. "I imagine you want to enjoy some quiet. It is a little raucous round here at the moment. Have a pleasant evening."

Hugging her book a little tighter to herself, she added a small nod before walking off at a brisk pace. This left Snape both with a sense of confusion and appreciation, someone it seemed actually understood his own sentiments, though he doubted they were shared.

After having spent a night that was flouted by nightmares of Minerva McGonagall in Bunny ears, Snape awoke to Halloween day feeling the inevitable dread that came with his intense dislike of the festival. Snape groaned and shoved his face further into his pillow, he knew that in mere hours he would be forced to join not only the entire teaching staff, but also the student body, in a ball with screamed of pointless frivolity. Snape it seemed was more disdainful that usual as he ordered the house elves to clean his best frock coat and send him up a dish of porridge for his breakfast, something wholesome was required in order to line his stomach for the various sweets and treats that resembled different body parts, he would be forced to ingest later that day.

Severus debated how long it was humanly and realistically possible to stay hidden in his quarters…the rest of his life seemed perfectly reasonable to him, but he knew this would not fly with another certain, now curly bearded member, of the Hogwarts Staff. This thought was interrupted briefly by a flash of green in his fireplace and echoing voice singing 'Happy Halloween' through the embers, Severus rolled his eyes…again and pretended he had not just heard Albus 'pretending' to not be Albus wishing him enjoyment of the day. He swore if any of his Slytherin's dared or even had the capacity to think to dare to knock on his door and utter 'trick or treat' he would not be responsible for his actions…should he have to account for them…and he would not.

Severus stared into his porridge dish and tried with his upmost to imagine the most horrific scenario that the evening could bring. Potter and Weasley would no doubt be in attendance, being that they were now upstanding members of not only the Wizarding community but the ministry respectively. There would be costumes…reams and reams of inane, tacky and sometimes plain ridiculous costumes, a feast of sweets and Halloween related food, most of it inedible and the Weird Sisters. Snape began to seriously consider suicide at that point in his thoughts; would it be as bad as having to attend a ball with not only screaming students but a screaming band as well?

Though he would not indulge in the ridiculousness of the festivities, he would still make sure he was dressed at his best. It was expected of a revered teach such as himself and he would not be outdone on that score. As he slowly prepared his mind and body for the nightmare evening ahead, he could hear footsteps and excited yabberings passing his door at various points of the day and he dreaded the thought of bunting hanging around the corridor of his chamber when he emerged. He completed all his tasks at the slowest rate of speed possible in the vain attempt to slow down time and yet still the swine passed on, minute by minute. By five o'clock he was dressed and sat in his chair, book in hand with a glass of port, looking at the tome and yet not reading a word.

The clock struck seven and he could put them off no longer, casting the book roughly onto the side table he moved towards the door, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as he turned the doorknob. Upon entering the corridor he was perplexed, there was no one and all seemed eerily quiet at first. He took a moment to listen, closing his eyes and then he registered it, the faint hubbub above coming from the Great Hall. He likened it to the distance sound of drums calling one to war, or in his case, hell! Setting off at a determined stride he vowed he would put in an appearance for an hour and no longer…. Half an hour if he could get away with it. A fifteen minute interval was daring to dream.

The closer he got to the Great Hall the louder the raucous noise of a collected ball of inane student energy became. Decorative cobwebs, floating pumpkins and all of the ghosts of Hogwarts were on hand at the Great Hall doors, handing out treats such as 'witches fingers' (hotdogs with tomato sauce) and crudely shaped ghosts on sticks made out of bananas and marshmallows. Snape rebuffed any offer of these sickly, sentimental objects. He even went as far as making an almost rude gesture towards Nearly Headless Nick who tried to hand him a hollowed orange in shape of a pumpkin.

"Why Professor Snape, I am appalled sir! Appalled! If my head wasn't already separate from my person I would have lost it!"

"Go away!" Snape growled slowly, low in his throat and like an exorcism the ghosts parted the ways and let him through, instead accosting the straggle of students forming behind him. Severus hated oranges; it reminded him of childhood inflictions of them being stuffed with cloves and him having to eat them. The full impact of the Weird Sisters rambling songs hit him as though someone had levelled a brick at his head. It hammered at his temples and taunted his eardrums offensively. The Great Hall was worse than he imagined and he was not prepared for the sight of staff and students respectively dressed in varying forms of disturbing attire.

Snape took the opportunity of finding a quietish corner where a shadow from a floating lit pumpkin hid him from view in his dark garb. From here he took the time to observe and absorb the horror. Making an imposing pathway through the dance floor he witnessed Madame Maxime and Hagrid who still very much adoring of one another had dressed in kind, as Gomez and Morticia Addams. Their costumes at least carried a little style though Snape imagined it was more her idea, for he doubted Hagrid would concoct the costumes. The pair began a rather exuberant waltz which resulted in sending one or two students whose limbs happened to stray into the dance floor territory flying.

"Sorry Orpheus… oops sorry Francelle!"Hagrid bellowed apologetically and cried all the louder when Maxime's jutting elbow knocked a mug of pumpkin juice clean from the hand of rather sensitive student Seraphina Peersnipe. "Oh my I am so sorry!"

Goblins, Hobbits, Vampires, Pumpkins and even a candelabra costume passed by in hoards of sugar fuelled excitement. Unfortunately for Snape the floating pumpkin moved directly above him, illuminating him and exposing him to the view of Professor Slughorn. This was without a doubt the worst costume far, and whilst Hagrid and Maxime were proving jeopardy friendly on the dance floor, Slughorn was knocking student's here there and everywhere with his costume. Bearing a length set of eight legs and an askew fuzzy wig and a black waistcoat and shirt, Slughorn lumbered forward meaning, Snape thought to be a giant spider.

"Festive greetings on this night of bountiful frivolity, Severus."

The term 'kill me' was muttered by Snape under his breath, completely missed by the rather large looking Slughorn.

"In honour of Hagrid's dear departed friend, I have come tonight as Aragog. I was there and spoke a few words at his passing so I thought I would remember him in my own small way tonight."

The word small was ironic beyond belief; Slughorn's costume must have rendered him almost triple his width. The icing on the cake of such an ensemble was the thick, black headband which had a smaller spider fixed to it. Slughorn held breath for Snape's eager response however the latter could not offer any satisfactory response. This instead left a void that rendered Snape vulnerable as Slughorn remarked.

"But my, what is your costume Severus, you look very smart… you rather put me in mind of Regulas…"

"I haven't come in any costume." Snape remarked quickly, he would not be compared to a Black under any circumstances.

"Ohhhhhhhh." Slughorn replied with sadness and confusion, "That's a shame, all sold out were they… that's often the way, we have very enthusiastic students after all… yes indeed I had to make this that you see on my head… in fact I made the whole thing myself."

As Slughorn babbled all of this, Snape only wondered how so many Hogwart's staff had all this spare time to make these crude costumes. But Slughorn only rambled on.

"I see so many very striking costumes…. This may be the best turn out we've had for them…. There's more joy in it now I suppose… not living under the shadow of…. Well I ramble… I know… but here… as you have no costume of your own, please take this…."

Slughorn prised the makeshift headband from his head and moved towards Snape. Back against the wall, there was nowhere for Snape to go and he felt the object roughly plant with graceless fervour on his head. Knowing this conversation would only get worse, Snape gave Slughorn a nod, not quite sure what it signified and moved to find another solitary corner. This was of ill judgement however as he practically collided with a group of former students whose faces he knew as well as his own.

Yes, there he stood, bold as brass as ever. Harry Potter wearing a large, purple oversized top hat and jazzy waistcoat, a pocket watch dangling from it. This was coupled with a backcombed neon orange wig and some form of makeup which Snape tried to look no closer at than was necessary. Clutching Harry's arm was Ginny who was obviously being the Alice to his Hatter. Turning his head a little to the right only added to the confusion, as there in large rabbit ears, a fluffy, brown all in one and drawn on white teeth was Ron Weasley.

"Good evening Professor Snape." Ginny said happily, Harry followed with a similar greeting full of forced politeness.

"Potter, Potter…. Weasley and….?"

Snape's eyes were diverted by the forth much brasher member of the quartet, a young woman whom he did not recognise.

"And you are?"

"Marilyn Monroe." The nasal, high voice replied with a giggle that was offensive to the ears.

"That… is obvious…"

Ron gave an enamoured look to the girl pawing at his arm before turning back to his former Professor and replied.

"This is my fiancé Veronica.

"I see."

Snape was about to move away, but a proud Ron continued his yarn.

"We met at the Ministry; she works on one of the front desks."

"I give out directions and sometimes leaflets." Veronica chimed in. "That's a smashing headband you have got going on Mr Stape… are you meant to be a shadow?"

"Yes… yes. Congratulations on finding your _better_ half Weasley." Snape said through gritted teeth. "I must be going… I expect you'll be wanting to take Marilyn to meet her kind in Wonderland."

"Bye Mr Stape!"

Snape saw Harry even cringe at that utterance but Ginny patted his blue velvet arm quickly and his face became neutral. Moving away as quickly as possible Snape spotted a corner that looked particularly welcoming. He was almost in reach of it, the shadows of it practically beckoning to him when his voice was hollered by the voice most well-known to him.

"Severus! At last!"

Upon turning to face the voice of Albus Dumbledore, Snape found himself confronted with one of the most vivacious costumes he had ever seen. It was impressive how a man could fashion such a large robe entirely out of wool and hessian. On his arm was Minerva McGonagall who perhaps had the most tasteful and elegant garb of the evening so far. That is if he ignored the two large horns protruding from her head.

"So lovely to see you this evening, Severus." Minerva said in a warm tone as she patted Snape's arm with her free hand. "It's all coming off very well this evening don't you think?"

"Yes."

"An interesting choice of costume, Severus?" Albus observed and Snape froze and relinquishing Minerva's arm moved forward and fixed the askew headband more in place on Severus's head. "Tell me how long did it take you to decide upon… the headband?"

"It was a rather quick motion."

"Yes, I observed a rather similar object resting on the head of Professor Slughorn earlier."

"It was a gift, given in a moment of…." Snape was dying to say inebriated idiocy but he corrected himself. "Festive…. Friendship."

"Ah I thought it was the same… but then, where is your costume?"

"Forgive me Albus, I was obliged by your invitation to attend, a costume was a little too much of a favour, even from an old friend."

To anyone else this may have caused offence, to a man such as Albus who knew him well he received a chuckled and another hearty slap to the back.

"Glad that you prevailed upon yourself to come up!" Albus searched about his person and proceeded to take off the woollen cowl which he had about his shoulders. "Here, take this."

Once more Snape found himself dressed in Halloween garb against his will, now he wore a spider headband and a blue and green knitted shroud.

"If anyone should ask Severus what you have come as, do you know what you should answer?"

"A jumble sale?" Snape uttered discontentedly.

"No…" Albus laughed. "An enigma, as ever!"

Minerva chuckled at the joke with Albus, Snape forced a smile for the sake of not offending old friends.

"Enjoy your evening, Severus. Happy Halloween." Minerva and Albus said in unison. Snape was right; it had definitely been Albus earlier speaking through the embers. He watched the pair drift off arm in arm again; making a byway towards the Wonderland collection he had just left.

For a time Snape passed his time in the corner uninterrupted. He ventured out for a small glass of something when he felt the coast was clear. This was a close call however as Veronica having left her troupe was now wandering by herself eating a marshmallow ghost whilst crying 'It's James Bond!' over and over in utter delight. Snape looked to whom she was referring and saw Filch, dressed as per usual only wearing a white tuxedo jacket. Filch gave a nod of recognition to Snape as the latter moved to return to his corner.

He felt it safe at last to remove the headband, placing it instead on his upper arm so as not to cause offence or worse… someone replaced it with something much, much worse. So the hour wore on, the Weird Sisters sang, Veronica's outburst of delight could be heard occasionally over other chattering's and joy and laughter seemed all around. If nothing else, Snape at least appreciated that others were free to live their emotions and joys. He felt himself past such a privilege. It was very strange, the hour passed on the clock and he did not leave, remaining instead at the safety of his corner. Was he frightened to encounter someone else, or concerned of what he might miss out on? Could a small part of him be enjoying himself at last?

His own reveries wrapped him in an appeased cocoon and he was lost to them until a flash of red passed the corner of his eye and once more Veronica's outburst could be heard above everyone else.

"Oh my God!"

Snape's eyes moved towards the direction of the voice and he saw Veronica's wide eyes looking elsewhere. Following her gaze he saw the red again, it was the train of a gown. The smooth, cool material trailed gracefully along the floor and he followed its fabric until it met the cream skin of the woman that wore it. His eyes were fixed and he waited, at a call from someone near by the young woman turned her head. Snape stood transfixed as the hand of the woman raised, the crimson angel sleeve sweeping upwards and she waved towards the person who called her. He couldn't believe it, it was Hermione Granger.


	2. Chapter 2

That flash of scarlet struck Severus right down to the bone, he was fixed to the spot, watching Hermione from his solitary corner. The floating pumpkin having moved along, Severus was now shrouded in darkness again and he contemplated the mere contrast of himself and Hermione. They were counterparts. Right now there she was, greeting everyone happily, a smile broad on her face and with an honest greeting in her heart for everyone she encountered. Then there was him, a silhouette of ebony hiding away in his corner, hoping that no one would approach him. That was until now.

As Severus scrutinised Hermione rather more than he would have dared allow himself on any normal day, he took in every inch of her appearance from the scooped neckline of the gown to the gold corset detail. Somehow in his focused attentions he was able to block out any other surrounding distractions and it was as if there was no other conversation worth attending to but the one she was involved in. He took note of every word she spoke whilst he noticed the three blood red roses fixed in her hair and he scorned the idiocy of every question about her apparel levelled at her, pleased with himself that he had guessed who she was immediately. Her graceful response to every question without even a wrinkle of the nose indicating annoyance impressed him, he couldn't tell whether she was acting the part of being pleased to meet Veronica or whether she was genuinely enchanted by every word the brash young women spoke. He imagined no one other than him studied every part of her as he did now.

The way the silken ruby fabric fitted her like a glove, knitting in at the waist before falling in a crimson waterfall like cascade, flowing into a train behind her. Severus did not know a lot of fashion, but he knew enough to believe that no other woman could have been born for such a dress. There was no perfection in this earth that lasted he believed, but right now as he stood shrouded in the secrecy of his shadowed corner he had found a perfect moment for his mind to remember always. It was here that he actually allowed himself to indulge in the high regard that he had held her for some time since she had become a potion's apprentice at Hogwarts. Such thoughts he had willed away as both sentiment and ridiculousness for a man of his age and temperament. All those years where the child Miss Granger had so irked his presence, the times where he had only ever found her irritating and worth only one or two sentences of scorn. He now felt a sense of shame in under estimating the capable, resilient and dare he say it beautiful woman she had become, yes it did strike a chord of ill ease within him about his attitude sometimes.

In this brief moment of introspection and pain he had lost sight of her and when his eyes moved to where Hermione had been standing, she was gone. How she could have disappeared from his view he couldn't quite comprehend, against all the white, black and green she stood out like a beacon of brilliance in bold red. But now she was quite gone and despite all his searching from his present residence he could not view her. It pained him, he needed to keep her in sight and that meant only one thing, he must brave the crowd and move. Taking a tentative step into the foray he began a ream of sincere sounding apologies with the occasional 'excuse me' thrown in there for the sake of politeness. When he did find her she might happen to look his way and he would not have her seeing him as the rude man she had grown up being wary of. He would have her see him as the man she occasionally exchanged easy pleasantries with, at fleeting moments in corridors. Those moments that she little knew were prized by him in his private thoughts.

As he took each step he felt a strange sense of boldness, he was now not a man changed but a man daring to display a part of himself that existed only to those that he trusted to know him better. The strange costumes and bizarre creations were blurs in his peripheral vision, he was a fleeting shadow in the search for a flash of scarlet and a pair of big, brown eyes that might throw him a kind glance as she did the previous day in the corridor.

Scouring and scrambling through the bustling groups he sought her but she was nowhere to be found, that age old part of him thought that only Hermione Granger would do a Cinderella style disappearing act. If that was the case she had lasted even less time than he, though she had forced a little more social exertion than he had. Colliding with a man wearing an obscure Venetian mask he heard a ramble of scrambling apologies which he tried his best to appease and bypass, but the man continued on rambling. With a more empathic 'excuse me' he barged past the masked figure and continued to head towards the Great Hall doors, the hot air of excitement around him feeling constrictive as though it were sticking to his skin, irritating him all the more. Snape found the revellers seemed to block his way on purpose, he hated them for their love of merriment and despised their discourse for it denied the way to his.

"Damn you all, you're all insufferable idiots." He cursed under his breath and with one last push through, sending one or two party goers staggering a little, one even half choking on a sausage roll. Then suddenly the crowds parted and he was free. He strode out of the doors and into the cooler, relieved air of the outer foyer. Hermione he was determined was nowhere in the Great Hall, he hoped like he, she had left a place where she did not feel enough kinship to justify remaining any longer. This of course could not be the case, the Potters were there, Weasley was there and on reflection he realised the Venetian masked stranger had been Diggory. These were her friends, yet she was not in their company any more. A cold pang of doubt hit Snape suddenly, what if despite all his deeps thoughts she had merely nipped to the ladies. The thought mortified him and he dared not contemplate it further.

Feeling the need for air, Snape crossed the entrance hall and pulling back the doors, he stepped out into the cool, crisp night. The fresh, icy air entered his lungs in welcome, the stale stuffiness of the atmosphere banished and he felt his spirits a little renewed. Looking up at the sky he saw angry black clouds snaking their way towards the moon, determined to dull its glimmer with their violent purpose. Yet illuminated in the silvery light he saw a figure moving across the grounds, cloaked in a colour he knew all too well. Beneath its dark train which dragged a little behind its wearer however disclosed a small flash of colour, dark blood red. It was Hermione. Severus wondered at why now of all times she had chosen to take a stroll when a storm was imminent, she had not seemed unhappy or melancholic at the ball, yet here she was wandering alone. Ignoring some sniggering and rustling from a nearby topiary he moved forward his eyes fixed on Hermione. Perhaps he was thawing as there was time he would have turned and blasted the topiary apart to steal the joy and promise of the snoggers concealed within.

It seemed on a fraction of a second later he was stepping into her shadow and not wishing to frighten her he said softly.

"Good evening, Hermione." He said daring to say her Christian name. "A pleasant night for a stroll."

Turning, Hermione's pale, creamy skin radiated in the moon light and her kind eyes regarded him with a soft look before flicking up to the sky. Severus felt the sting of stupidity at his remark.

"I think I have made a mistake." She said with a small laugh. "It's going to chuck it down any moment."

"I think you may be right." He put out his arm in a gesture of guiding her back towards the security of the castle, not daring to touch her but showing care and consideration. "Perhaps we should take shelter."

The weather spoke her answer for them for immediately a spatter of raindrops in quick succession fell onto Severus and Hermione's faces and the rumble of thunder rolled in above them. Hermione pulled up the hood of her cloak and willing to be led instinctively allowed Severus to take her hand and guide her past the greenhouses and into the courtyard. They barged through the door quickly and found themselves in a much more subdued part of the castle, the hubbub of the party only a distance murmur blotted out by the aggressive peels of thunder. As Severus closed the door, Hermione moved to a window, pushing back her cloaks hood wiping beaded droplets from her face. A flash or two of thunder illuminated her and Severus moved nearer to watch the flashing forks permeate the sky.

"I love thunder storms." Hermione said quietly. "It's fitting don't you think, for Halloween? I remember watching films with my parents as we huddled up together. I used to like it until I saw other children walking past our house all dressed up for trick or treating. For a muggle I certainly didn't do things like they all did. I feel as if I regret this now, like I've wasted times where I could have been frivolous."

"I think you have always been far too much of an adult to spend your life being frivolous." Severus said gently, the warmth of his tone stirring from the elation of having such a moment with her. He listened and felt that perhaps despite a generation difference or two, they were both old souls at heart. Still, the slight pain of her voice at what might have been denied her in the past made him feel an urge to share likewise experiences with her. Yet he was not quite ready to divulge the childhood Halloweens of his own past, scribbling in his diary and contemplating all that was not his to experience, a set of events and feelings denied him. Tonight was not the time, however much he would like the kinship of shared understanding, but it made him feel closer to her all the same. That would come in time.

"Out of all the fairy tales, what made you choose Rose Red?" He asked, wanting the privilege of diverting her from regretful thoughts. His reward was a look of happy surprise, her features lifted and she broke into a small smile.

"Every presumed I was Red Riding Hood." She replied, her light voice like music in her joy of disbelief at his guessing immediately. "Tell me Professor, how of all the fairy tales did you guess I was Rose Red."

"There was no red cape in sight." He said with a light, rueful tone. "Though for the likes of Veronica I imagine the colour associated with either Red Riding Hood or a stop sign."

"You heard?"

"Even the deaf would not be spared, Weasley has got himself a keeper there."

This was his greatest reward so far in his acquaintance with her, she laughed. It was not a short laugh for a fleeting joke, but a trill of genuine pleasure derived from his very own words.

"They can be fools together." He continued.

"I was that fool once if you remember."

"Youth is the time to make errors, Hermione." Severus noted lightly. "You're a wiser woman now."

Hermione blushed a little with embarrassment, the red hue of her cheek complimenting the silk of her gown.

"A little different from the insufferable know it all you once knew?" She chided, daring to surpass her nervousness at such a compliment offered by him and daring to match his candour.

"Quite the surprising young woman as it turned out."

"As are you." She continued, her voice braver than before. "You do not seem quite the bear that I remember."

"I would appreciate it if you would not reveal such a thing to the students." Severus remarked with a small smirk.

"Then perhaps we are only one small element away from the story." She said, her voice becoming almost a whisper and seeming to be overcome by a strange rush of emotion she turned from him and looked out the window. This was an opportunity that was rarely given to any man and at this very second Severus blessed whatever divinity had offered him the chance. He took out his wand and taking a step towards her he murmured softly.

"Nix de illa."

Hermione kept her gaze fixed on the outside, despite her boldness she somehow felt devoid of movement or words since he had neared her. Severus watched her, the silent battle dancing across her features as she tried to confine herself to one course of emotion, he saw a mirror image of himself amongst those varying looks. When the first flake of snow graced her cheek Hermione snapped her eyes upwards and her eyes widened with quiet joy as the small, delicate flakes fell around her. Some rested upon her shoulders and settled glistening in her hair.

"The snow was what brought the bear to her door as I remember." He said quietly, his hand daring at last to reach out and touch her shoulder, his gentle gesture turning her to face him.

"I do not remember you ever coming to my door to seek refuge from the snow Professor." She remarked, her voice finding its boldness once more and rendering her even more beautiful. The snow fell about her, dancing and swirling in elegant patterns, the perfect frame for Hermione he felt.

"You did not leave a fixed address after leaving Hogwarts." He said, now feeling the nerves which she had shed. Swallowing hard he controlled the clamour of his thoughts and rapid heartbeat, he took another step closer until at last they shared a space only built for intimacy.

"You do not seem quite the bear now, professor." She said quietly. "And you know where I live."

"I can only promise myself, I hope you left the thoughts and hopes of princes in your childhood Hermione. I have seen and lost too much to be anything other than what you see before you."

"Callous, cold and calculating?" She suggested jokingly.

"Perhaps, though I believe our current position strives beyond the professional appearances."

Aware that this playful verbal courtship could continue and that he would be honoured to pass an evening in such a manner, Severus felt reluctant to submit to the desire that now burned at his fingertips and transfixed his mind. Yet Hermione in her generosity and evident feelings for him had been too open for him to turn back, her very person hoped that he would dare to take the step from the veil he worked so hard to create yet that she saw beyond. His hand reached out and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her forward with the conviction that to act any other way would be unnatural. Hermione's large eyes were a mixture of surprised and she submitted to the moment. His other hand gathered her to him, the silken material scrunched between his fingers as he finally pressed his lips to hers. All else was lost to instinct, Severus did not even have time to contemplate the last time he kissed a woman. It might have started awkward, he might have clamoured with the sensations of tingling and fear that he had no doubt she likewise felt yet at this point he was lost to the moment. A lot could be said, written or contemplated about such a moment but to be lost, enveloped and at the mercy of such defied words, defied some aspects of memory, receptors and instinct intertwined and separated them from the world around them. The storm was distant, the party inconsequential and the rest was but the work of moments and the willing to submit.


End file.
